Catriona Quinn and the Owl Post
by Call me Mel
Summary: Catriona Quinn, a timid, fourth year Gryffindor, tries to survive a year at Hogwarts. Will she make it?
1. The Bicycle

Catriona Quinn 

and the Owl Post

Chapter One: The Bicycle 

Catriona awoke to the faint sound of tapping and clicking at her window.  It was still dark outside.  Springing up in her bed, she gasped. 

"It's Saturday! Zooks! I've slept in!" she cried, rolling out of bed with a clunk and pulling on her boots and robes.  The tapping didn't stop.

"Sorry, Orion," Catriona breathed as she opened the window of the dormitory to let in a small, tawny owl.  It hooted and perched on her shoulder. She looked at her watch, which had revolving stars and planets on it. She moaned. "Oh, not again! Mr. Chesson's going to KILL ME!" 

She burst through the door and charged through the empty Common Room.  

As she made her way across the sloping lawn towards the broomshed, she muttered angrily to herself, "Everyone else gets to sleep in. It's _Saturday,_" she said, in a mocking voice. "But does Catriona? _Nooooo. SHE_ has to get up early to _work_."

She opened the weathered wooden door to the shed, not to pull out a broom, but a light blue, rusty bicycle.  A Muggle bicycle.  

"Come on, ya piece of junk," she growled at the contraption.  It looked tired and weary. Almost as tired as Catriona herself, who had dark bags under her eyes.

Orion hooted and rustled his feathers.  Catriona jumped, seemingly not remembering that he had been perched on her shoulder all the while.

            She grabbed the handles of the bike and pulling back with all her might, freed it from the tangle of broomsticks.  Catriona, in her patched and worn robes, looked quite the pair with the pike.  Its rims were bent and out of shape with several spokes missing.  The tires were worn bald.  They were so old they creaked and cracked as Catriona swung her leg over the ripped leather seat and put her weight on them.  The bicycle groaned. 

            As she kicked off the ground and began peddling, the pedals jerked and gave way beneath her feet.  With a _clack, clack_ she headed down the path to Hogsmeade.  The pedal began to scrape and hit against the loose kickstand.  _Click, click_.  The chain, which was altogether mangled and kinked, clonked along.

            Catriona and her bicycle were a moving orchestra, _Click, click, clack, click, click, clang!,_ Accompanied by Catriona's curses and cries.  

            She decided to take a shortcut through the small woods, but, like most short cuts, she had to duck constantly under branches, peddle out of the squechtling mud, and came out five minutes later than if she had taken the trodden path.

            She rode into Hogsmeade as the first early morning light streaked the misty skies.  Catriona dismounted in front of the Owl Post and let her bike clatter to the ground, not bothering with a kickstand.

            After silencing the bell over the door with a charm, she crouched down and slipped by the front counter and into the back room.

            "We can't keep her, Sage," Mr. Chesson, the Owl Post owner was saying behind the counter.  There was the sound of money being counted.

            "Avery," Mrs. Chesson said, exasperated, "You're talking like she's a stray dog.  She's got a way with the owls and she's a decent worker. It's hard enough with the owl shortages, but to lose employees…"  Catriona held her breath and listened. They were talking about her.

            "She's very well near a stray dog. No parents… just wanders around, she's not even reliable. Look, 5:30 and she's not even here. She's not dependable, Sage. First paycheck she gets she'll make off with it like a-"

            "No. She's right honest," his wife persisted. "Dumbledore recommended her, and as far as I'm concerned, that's good enough for me.  Merlin's beard, Avery, it's only her third week. Give her a chance, will you?"

            There was a grunt from Mr. Chesson.  "Oh, alright, but if she doesn't show up in the next ten minutes or so, she'll be up cleaning to stoops."

            Catriona sighed. _Some impact I've made,_ she thought bitterly as she put on her falconry gloves.  She heard someone behind her and quickly turned.

            "Hello," Aramais Chesson, a 17 year-old Hufflepuff said.  His parents owned the Owl Post, and he often came to work for them on the weekends.  He was tall, at least a full foot and half taller than Catriona.  He had long brown hair which he tied back, and deep, hazel eyes.  Catriona smiled weakly.

            "You're here," he said, smiling politely.  "You'd best get cleaned but before going on duty." He pointed out, tipping his head to the mirror.

            She nodded and faced the mirror.  She gaped at the girl looking back at her.  Her uncombed hair housed several leaves and twigs. She had scratches on her face and dirt on her chin. Aramais left the room and entered the front, shaking his head and smiling.

            Five minutes and seven band-aides later, Catriona came out as well.


	2. Holiday Cheer

Chapter Two: Holiday Cheer

"G'Morning, dear," Mrs. Chesson said with a smile. 

            Catriona grinned.  At least someone was on her side.  "Stoop today?" she asked, somewhat hopeful.  Today was a Hogsmeade weekend.  No doubt everyone would make a stop to visit Aramais or send owls to their parents.  The thought of being recognised was all too mortifying for Catriona.  However, to her dismay, Mrs. Chesson was putting on her gloves and gathering her things. "No, dear, I have to go run a few errands, could you take over the counter for me?"

            Catriona blinked.  Mrs. Chesson was obviously putting a great deal of trust in her.  She couldn't betray that.  "A-alright," she said, quite uncertain and, though she never expressed it, unwilling.  

            "Thanks, dear," Sage Chesson said as she walked out the door.  Before the door even had a chance to close all the way, it opened, letting in a Hogwarts student with a gust of chilly, autumn air.  She was bundled up in a scarf, but from the bushy hair, Catriona could tell that it was Hermione.

            Hermione was digging for something in her pocket, so didn't notice Catriona.  _If I go now_, Catriona thought to herself, _She__ won't even know I was here… I could get Aramais to take the job…_ Catriona stamped down on that flitting thought with her determination. _No, Mrs. Chesson gave _me_ the job, not Aramais._  She sighed and cleared her throat.

            Hermione looked up. "Oh! Catriona! I didn't think you worked here! Is _this_ where you go every weekend?" 

            Catriona opened her mouth slightly, mortified. "Y…you know?"

            Hermione smiled. "Well, of _course_, I do.  I've given up looking for you in the library, where else would you be?" She paused and examined Catriona's face. "I think it's downright wonderful that you're working so hard for a little extra pocket money.  Ron ought to apply here, too.  The Chessons are wonderful people.  But, you know, the Weasleys have a bit of difficulty getting the money around." She shot to alarm at realising how that sounded. "Not that that's a bad thing, only that if he wanted extra money, it'd be a good thing to do." She leaned a bit on the counter.  "Harry and Ron didn't want to come down with me today.  They say they're bored with it.  After all the fuss Harry made about coming here his third year, I'd have thought he'd value it a bit more.  Oh well. Do you mind if I stay in here for a bit? It's getting cold outside and I must admit, I don't have much to do myself here anymore."

Catriona's reluctance gave way to manners. "By all means…" she said.

"Thanks.  So, we never really talk." Hermione said, almost as a complaint.  

_That's the point,_ Catriona thought in response.  

"How many siblings do you have?  Harry and I can't sympathize with Ron's situation after all… we're only children of our family.  What about yourself?"

            "I'm an only child, too," she said, feeling more lonely and "only" than ever.  She thought of Harry, alone as well, and felt a sigh escape.  

            Hermione nodded, slightly sensing the depression and trying to move on. "Well, I'm sending an owl home to my parents.  Usually I use Hedwig or Pigwidgeon, but, since it's the holidays, they're all out and about." She smiled, knowing something that would _surely_ cheer Catriona up. "Are you going to go see your parents this holiday?"

            Catriona stiffened. "Me? No… I'm staying at Hogwarts," she said, running her fingers over the wooden counter.

            Hermione persisted. "Why not? I'm sure they'd love to see you."

            "I'm sure they would.  The truth is, they've never seen me."

            "Why-"

            "They're dead," Catriona responded curtly, moving to the cash register.  She opened it, just to have something to do.

            "Oh."

            "That'll be two sickles and one knut," Catriona said, rigidly business-like.  

            Hermione pulled out the change and tried her best to give a smile.  It came out lopsided and pale.  "Well… Happy Holidays," she offered, no longer finding it quite as warm or welcome in the Owl Post.  She left a message on the counter to be sent by owl before leaving, letting another cool gust in.


End file.
